Unless
by Willy Dubs the Awesome
Summary: The last tree has been felled. The world is in anarchy. Can knowledge save it? Will mankind be able to accept the truth? Rated T for violence and cursing. Still in progress. Please review.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Lorax. I seek no profit from this work of fan fiction.**

Unless

Shneed City. Always a place to be wary. Whether it be shadowy Once-ler insurgents or the city's own Shneed Corps, danger lurked behind every corner of the smog-covered streets. With every step folks took, their eyes darted back and forth in fear of rogue Shneed Corps officers or the occasional mugger. Every noise, be it the screech of a Van's wheels or twist of a doorknob, sent up a red flag to anyone within earshot.

For the dying Once-ler cult, the growing fear of crime planted the seeds of success. With more folks fearing the Once-ler, there were more folks eager find him. And with more attempts to investigate, the more the cult could make its point against society. The radical followers of the dying Once-ler were nearly impossible to track, and more importantly, nearly impossible for the Shneed Corps to hunt down.

The Libery Corps had been founded a year after the founding of Shneed City, in an attempt by the government to exterminate the Once-ler cult and destroy any remaining knowledge of the Lorax's past. The monster once known by that name was now a savage, bloodthirsty creature, mad as a rabid dog and as grotesque as the Once-ler himself. "The Lorax", now known simply as "The Beast", roamed the crime-riddled streets around midnight, feeding on the hearts of those dared to confront it. Many ambitious individuals had set out to slay The Beast, though looking into its twisted, yellow face, had always meant certain death. The Beast's hide was said to be impenetrable by run-of-the-mill bullets and its gaping maw was said to lead directly to Hell. Rumor had it that The Beast wanted revenge. The question was why.

Ted Gisel, a young reporter for Shneed news, walked calmly towards the dilapidated building known as Truffalla Club. Carved into the eroding side of a long-abandoned Shneed factory, it's shady patrons and renowned drinks made it a well-known nook of safety from the oppressive Shneed Corps. In fact, the visual scanner of a Shneed Corps officer had never processed the club's shadowy interior. Ever. But why? And more importantly, did the Once-ler cult have anything to do with it. Ted Gisel wanted to find out.

As the club's outer doors creaked open, two Once-ler thugs stepped monotonously towards the new face. The Once-ler cult wasn't too fond of new faces. It could the face of spy, the face of a hired killer, or even the face of a traitor. In any case, folks in the mood for a history lesson were trouble. Especially with this city's dangerous history.

Ted calmly shut the door behind him despite the cautioning sign that hung above him like gallows tree. The taller of the Once-ler thugs extended a hairy, swamp-colored arm towards his belt, as if to intimidate Ted with the thought of his gun. Ted quickly started rummage through his back pocket. Then, after a few seconds deathly silence, he fished out a small card and handed it to one of the thugs, who simply nodded and motioned toward the door.

With the creaking of a hinge, Ted Gisel walked coolly into the club. Every patron, it seemed, Once-lers and Shneedites alike, lifted their heads up from their drinks to get a look at the stranger. Ted simply swung onto a barstool and called out to the bartender for the usual.

But Ted was looking for someone. An old friend. A mysterious patron who went by the name of Seuss. His real name was almost as big of a mystery as the Once-ler himself. Seuss was a shady figure by nature. A mental file of dangerous knowledge known for his shadowy ways. And he was supposed to be somewhere in the club.

Seuss's old man was there when last tree was felled and knew about nature and all of its wonders. He was killed. Hunted down by the Shneed Corps after running from the law. In this case, "the law" was the city trying to cover up the past. What Ted wanted to know was how much Seuss knew, and more importantly, how much he was willing to share.

Then, Ted spotted him. Slouching in a carefree manner at a table in the back. Sitting across from him was a young, maybe 25 year-old Once-ler toady who looked pretty full of himself.

"He doesn't know Seuss's temper." Ted chuckled to himself.

Between the Seuss and cocky Once-ler thug sat a thick stack of Shneedbucks. They seemed to be arguing over it. Ted slowly walked up to the corroding table.

"Seuss, we gotta talk when you're done with the new kid." He said with a half-smile directed at the clearly serious Once-ler goon.

The thug, growing impatient, reached for his gun, but it was too late. Seuss had his glock under the table the whole time.

"Damn." Ted muttered aloud.

The Once-ler thug slouched lifelessly in his chair, his half-loaded gun resting on the table. A few newcomers glanced over at the body in disbelief, but most of the patrons who heard the gunshot simply went about their business.

"I know what you want." Seuss muttered grimly.

"Shoot."

"You want to know about The Beast. The Once-ler. The past."

"How did you know?" Ted pushed sarcastically.

"Shut up and sit down, Ted." Seuss seemed pretty serious about the whole thing.

"I'm not telling you the past, kid. So cry about it." Seuss paused and looked Ted over, waiting for a response. He got none.

A faint smile touched Seuss's lips. It was a remembering smile, a past that was lost and a future in danger. He seemed to remember something. Something good. Something important. Something Ted needed to know.

"You know, kid," Seuss said, "you're a real asshole, coming in here and being so mysterious. It just doesn't fit you."

Ted chuckled to himself. "I could say the same for an old man."

A serious look suddenly clung to Ted's face. "I want to know what happened to The Beast. How did he get this way? How can he change?"

"One word, kid. One word." Seuss leaned in closer to Ted. "Unless. Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, things aren't going to get better. They're not."

Ted raised an eyebrow. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Seuss leaked another smile. "Yeah, sounds pretty trippy to me, too, kid."

"Cut the crap, Seuss." Ted threatened, "I want to know about The Beast. The Once-ler. The past.

"Whoa there, big guy." Seuss took his turn to raise an eyebrow. "I can't tell you the past, but I can tell you the future."

"It's all the same to me." Ted was clearly growing impatient.

"You might not believe this," Seuss whispered, "but there's a chance that nature can make a comeback. All we have to do is even the playing field."

"How the Hell are we supposed to that? Take out the entirety of the Shneed Corps?" Ted wasn't getting his answer, and he didn't like that.

"I can't tell you here, kid, but its got something to do with The Beast. The past."

Seuss got up from the table and began to walk towards the exit. Then he stopped. He turned around and looked Ted in the eye. "And remember: Unless."


End file.
